


Three Important Facts

by hattricks



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Author Is Sleep Deprived, Birthday, Fluff, Keith (Voltron) has wings, Keith/Lance (Voltron) Fluff, M/M, Romance, Wing Grooming, Wingfic, but i also wanted to post it on keiths birthdat, i wanted it to be longer, klance, so happy birthday keithy, this is......so short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-21 20:05:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12464920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hattricks/pseuds/hattricks
Summary: At first, Lance had found it funny. Suddenly, feathers of varying shapes, sizes, and hues of maroon and black found their way into inconspicuous places, and no one was safe from them. Pique-hilarity came when Pidge threw a handful of feathers back at Keith, shouting for him to keep them out of her shower drain. There was never an explanation as to how they got there.





	Three Important Facts

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Birthday, Keith!

Lance had learned three important facts about Keith’s wings since he’d first taken residence upon the castleship. 

Number one, ‘moulting season’ was no longer a season like it once had been back on earth. He didn’t understand the exact terminology Hunk had used to explain it, but he got the gist: a change in weather patterns is what triggered a hormonal response that told Keith’s brain it was time to start dropping feathers back on earth. One of the many downsides of living in a giant spacecraft was the lack of natural environment, which meant that Keith’s system had no way of telling his wings to drop the extra feathers. Instead, he just dropped small amounts, continuously. 

At first, Lance had found it funny. Suddenly, feathers of varying shapes, sizes, and hues of maroon and black found their way into inconspicuous places, and no one was safe from them. Pique-hilarity came when Pidge threw a handful of feathers _back_ at Keith, shouting for him to keep them out of her shower drain. There was never an explanation as to how they got there. 

But after a couple months in space, and after the initial coolness of being the universe’s only hope had worn off, the crew began to get cranky. They were tired, homesick, stressed, and seemingly always looking for a way to jump down each other’s throats. Hunk’s headband being left in the common area had never been a problem before, but Lance is pretty sure Shiro was going to burn it if he found it there one more time, and don’t even get him started on Pidge leaving her tools on the dinner table. Small and insignificant things had seemed to put everyone on edge, and usually they brushed it off, but Lance couldn’t help but notice the guilty look on Keith’s face when someone, _anyone_ , complained about the fallen feathers that littered the castle floor. They collected in the corners of rooms like dust bunnies, floating to a new destination when someone walked past. Lance never had a problem with the feathers laying around; he’d had two dogs back on earth, one of which being a border collie, and he knew exactly how much fur fell in shedding season.

Ever the innovative lad, Lance realized that, just like his dogs, brushing out the excess feathers would probably help keep the strays down to a minimum and might be a little bit more comfortable for Keith. When he saw Keith later that evening in the common area, sitting sideways on the couch with his wings hanging off the side and a book in his hands, he mentioned running a comb through and just clearing up the extras. 

At first, Keith had seemed incredulous to the idea. 

“I never needed to comb them out on earth,” He’s said, furrowing his eyebrows at Lance in a way that Lance found alluring. He just shrugged, due to lack of anything to say. “Besides, I can’t reach the back anyway.” Keith finished, shifting slightly and dropping a bright red feather. 

“I can help, if you’d like?” Lance offered. Keith maintained eye contact for a count of five before letting out a breathy reply. 

“Sure.” 

The second thing Lance learned about Keith’s wings was that they were a great source of tension. The other paladins did not have wings, and they collected their own tension within their shoulder blades and lower backs. Keith’s wings, however, seemed to selfishly take all the stress in for themselves.

Lance couldn’t help but feel like such beautiful phenomena should not have to carry such a burden. And yet, as he ran his fingers through Keith’s wings, sitting cross-legged behind him on the couch, he could feel Keith loosen up. Halfway through the back of the left wing, with a decently sized pile of loose feathers beside him, Lance noticed how Keith’s shoulders seemed to have dropped slightly and his posture seemed more relaxed. Keith seemed more at ease than Lance had seen him in a long time. 

They’d developed a routine after that. Every few days, when the feathers would drop more frequently, Keith would knock on Lance’s door before bed and wordlessly sit on the edge of the mattress as Lance worked his way through Keith’s wings, creating a pile of loose feathers beside them. The process didn’t take long, thirty minutes tops, and Lance always filled the silence between them with regular chatter, stories of home, or humming. Keith usually stayed silent, enjoying the moment. 

When Shiro had gone missing, Keith seemed to show up at Lance’s bedroom door a little more often, which had been expected. Lance knew better than anyone else the stresses Keith was going through as the new leader of Team Voltron, and tried his damn best to work that tension out of Keith’s wings. 

“Do you want to talk about what’s bothering you?” He’d asked one evening as Keith sat down. Keith just shrugged in response. 

“It’s just a lot to get used to,” He’d said quietly. Lance just nodded and hummed quietly, setting to work right away. After a few minutes, and after his shoulders softened, Keith continued, saying, “I think I’m doing okay, though.” 

Lance hummed in response again, flattened some of the fluffier areas near the base of Keith’s left wing, and then said, “I think you’re doing pretty well, all things considered.” 

That was the extent of their conversation for that day. 

Lance noticed around this time that he and Keith seemed to get along better. Their arguments turned into playful bickering, they agreed more often, and their team-morale boosted. He didn’t want to say that hanging out with Keith seemed to be necessarily good for both of them, but if the shoe fit. 

Keith even began to favour lazily hanging out with Lance over constant training, which was an interesting development. He still trained every day, but Lance noticed that he sat in the common area more often, lingered around after meals, and even asked if he’d wanted to join him in training. 

Things took a turn after Shiro returned. 

Lance knew that Keith had fully expected Shiro to take over in the black lion the minute he’d returned. Lance also knew that this left Team Voltron with an extra paladin. He’d brought it up a couple nights after Shiro had come back. 

“Just worry about your missions,” Keith had told him. Logically, Lance knew that was what would’ve been best, to just worry about what he needed to, not stressing about everything else. But Lance also knew that this was going to affect him, one way or another. 

In an unforeseeable turn of events, Black had rejected Shiro. 

This seemed to bring a whole new breed of stress into Keith’s wings. For a whole day (or what was presumably a day) afterword, Keith looked tense. His shoulders and wings were stiff, his voice was gruff, and his eyes looked worried. 

That night, Lance knocked on Keith’s bedroom door, and offered to massage his feathers for him. 

Unlike night’s previous, Lance didn’t just comb through the feathers. He also used his fingers and the palms of his hands to massage the skin and muscles that held them in, making small circles as he followed the patterns downwards. This seemed to do the trick, as Lance watched Keith’s shoulders loosen and drop, felt his wings go lax in his hands, and heard a small and content hum slip past Keith’s lips. 

Keith didn’t even seem to care, which surprised Lance, so he kept going, taking extra care to massage the stress and strain out of his teammate as best as he could. Lance hummed a tune he couldn’t remember the name of softly, playing with Keith’s soft wings for about an hour before the boy in front of him let out a yawn larger than he’d seen in a long time. Lance smoothed out the feathers one last time before shuffling off the bed and bidding Keith a good night. 

The third thing Lance learned, and he kicked himself for not seeing it earlier, is that Keith’s wings often reflect his emotions. 

The morning after Keith had practically fallen asleep while Lance took care of his wings, he watched as Keith strode into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of cold, caffeinated Altean beverage (or Mock-Coffee, as Lance so expertly called it) with a newfound softness about him. Keith seemed well rested and more relaxed, and his wings reflected that. They trailed behind him effortlessly, as opposed to stiffly glued to his sides as they had been the morning before. 

“Keith, you’re looking better,” Hunk noted, pointing a spoonful of food goo at him as he did so. Keith just smiled and nodded in response, clearly still tired, but better nonetheless. Lance couldn’t help but smile as well, knowing he was the cause of it. 

Later, while training together, Lance took notice to how Keith’s wings were displayed on his back during a fight sequence. They fell in a strong sense, always ready to jut out as a shield, weapon, or distraction as they sparred together. Admittedly, Lance _had_ gotten distracted, and Keith got in a few good jabs. But even when they teamed up and fought together against drones, Lance couldn’t help but keep an eye on the wings as they flaunted about, knocking drones down or flapping quickly to give Keith a boost. This time, it was the drones who got a few jabs in against Lance. 

During dinner, the topic of the Balmerans came up. Naturally, Pidge made a suggestive face and flicked some goo at Hunk, who stammered his way through an excuse as the others laughed. But while Allura, Shiro, Coran, Pidge, and Keith looked at Hunk as they laughed, Lance kept his eye on Keith, noticing that his wings shook with his shoulders. 

The evening had been quiet, so Lance declared movie night. Allura brought out an obscure horror film that she claimed had been very popular amongst Altean teenagers in her time, and even though he couldn’t understand a single word that was said, Lance decided it was a lot like many of the horror films back on earth; filled with jump scares, aggressive music, and bad decisions. But no matter how hard he tried to pay attention to the movie in front of him, he couldn’t stop glancing at Keith, who was sat beside him on the three-person couch. Near the end of the thriller, after half of the characters had been killed off and the evil spirit-type thing created a jump scare on screen, Lance watched as Keith jumped slightly (not half as much as Pidge, who threw the multitool she’d been fiddling with in the air) and his wings seemed to poof out, almost defensively. 

He thought it was adorable. 

Lance realized then that maybe things had started getting a little _too_ good with Keith. Maybe the soft evenings together, the joined training, and constant attention he payed Keith was leading to something that made Lance’s face a little warmer than usual, and maybe he didn’t hate it. He caught himself letting out a soft breath while staring at Keith just a little longer than he should have been before addressing the group and saying he was heading off to bed. 

No sooner had his head hit the pillow, a knock came to his door. 

“C’min,” he called. The door slid open a moment later, revealing Keith with a timid look on his face, and Lance decided then that confidence suited him better. 

“Hey,” Keith almost whispered, shuffling a few feet into the room.

“What’s up, man?” Lance sat up. 

“I’ve got, uh, some pain back here,” Keith paused and turned his back slightly, showing off his right wing as he pointed. “I think I got it from training when I tried that spin,” he continued, his voice gaining a little more courage with each word until he was speaking properly again. Lance just nodded along, listening and taking notice to the tense way he held his wings, just like he had been before. 

Lance pat the space beside him, peeling the covers back and sitting his legs criss-cross in front of himself. Keith came and sat beside him wordlessly, sitting so he was facing Lance but pulling his wing in front. He looked eternally grateful the moment Lance set to work, once again massaging his way through Keith’s wings. 

“Thanks for always doing this,” Keith said after a few minutes. 

“Anytime,” Lance smiled, “I used to do this sort of thing for my sister all the time. Well, not quite like this, but I’d rub her shoulders after work or braid her hair before bed. That sort of thing,” 

“I getch’a,” 

Lance took notice of how this was different from the other times he’d helped Keith out. For starters, Keith still looked tense, almost like something was bothering him, and secondly, Keith had sat down facing him, instead of facing his back toward him like he usually did. 

“What’s bothering you?” Lance asked softly, breaking the silence that had seemed to put the boys in a trance. 

“Nothing,” Keith said. Lance hummed in response, and Keith sighed. “Don’t worry about it.” 

“Okay,” Lance said, moving his gaze from Keith’s wings to his eyes, staring. His hands slowed to a stop, but he didn’t dare let go. 

Keith was close, he noted. His wings were still raised slightly in defence, like he wanted to run but couldn’t do it. Lance watched as Keith’s eyes darted over his face and between his eyes, and then settled slightly when he seemed to realize Lance was staring back. Neither boy made a motion to move.

Lance’s right hand slowly fell from Keith’s wing to his own knee, resting there as his left hand stayed on the wing, his eyes unmoving until Keith darted his tongue out to wet his lips. He found his gaze darting quickly to Keith’s mouth, realizing that Keith absolutely saw it happen, but didn’t find enough energy to care. And then, in what Lance thought to be an uncharacteristic turn of events, Keith’s own line of sight did the same — darting down quickly to Lance’s mouth and then back to his eyes again. 

Before he was fully aware of what was happening, he leaned forward slightly, and watched as Keith did the same. Lance risked another glance at Keith’s lips, unprompted then, before closing the gap between them. 

Lance learned three important facts about Keith through their first kiss. 

Firstly, Keith needed some lip balm. Lance was pretty sure he had a spare hanging around somewhere, and would give it to him as soon as he found it. 

Secondly, like everything else Keith did, he focused when he kissed. Lance could almost _feel_ his eyebrows scrunching in concentration. 

Thirdly, when hands don’t help with relaxation, sometimes lips do. The moment Keith’s lips touched his, Lance could feel Keith’s wings drop, releasing the tension that had once held onto them. The kiss was short, close-mouthed, and a little rough, but it was all Keith needed to stabilize.  

When they broke apart, Lance watched as Keith’s eyes searched his again, desperately looking for a reaction, and his wings tensed ever so slightly again. Lance offered him a small smile, cupped Keith’s face with his right hand as he stroked his wing with his left, and pulled him in once again.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't ask how or why Keith has wings, the answer to both is, "Because I Said So." 
> 
> Thank you for reading! This is my first Voltron fic lmao so feedback is always appreciated. This is dedicated to tumblr user [Ceith](http://www.ceith.tumblr.com) for making a post about wanting Keith with wings. I promised him I'd write a wing!fic about a week ago, so here I am to deliver. And you can find me on tumblr right [here](http://www.wingedkeith.tumblr.com)


End file.
